Winter’s time for fog and smog; misty roads where’s vision obscure.
Here comes a poet from behind the smokes and poetry evokes to allure the senses with constellation of chilly poetic thoughts to be explored….
Chill gusty winds blow off everything, leaving behind parched lips and cracked skins.
Amidst them all, flakes dropp down from the heavens above to kiss mountain tops; to crown the hills with white snowfalls. Valleys’ blooming in hues of red, yellow, pink and violets; rosy smells perfuming the surroundings. Bonfires burning with people huddled around and mothers cuddle the babies for warmth.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
i read this aloud to my self with an epic voice hahaha that was fun